rewritten moonlight
by twieveluv
Summary: this is the second draft of 'the moonlight' and much different. Aurora Elizabeth Stanton goes to boarding school after her parents' untimely death and at the age of 18, runs into some pretty beautiful men. full sum. inside
1. Chapter 1

Hey all my loyal fans! I know you're probably like: What the hell?

I'm rewriting the story. Yep. I've been in a slump because there were things that I didn't like about the story and I was going to try to change them. I knew I would change a few any way.

The stuff I posted before was my first draft. I've heard some authors go through ten drafts before the consider their story good enough to be sent off to a publisher and I know I'm going to need just as many or more.

Several things about the story are going to change so hold on for the ride.

"Hey, babe," Brett called from his red convertible.

God, how I hate that name. Babe. It sounds condescending coming from his lips.

I was sitting on a cement bench in the shade of an old pine in front of the school parking lot with Victoria beside me and Amelia stretched out on her stomach reading. Lily and Jenny were painting there toenails and Jordan was laying back with her eyes shut, sunbathing.

Everyone of them but me looked up at Brett's voice and the low hum of the car as he pulled up beside us. I focused my eyes on my lap.

"Afternoon, ladies," he said smoothly to my friends and their faces brightened just a bit. All except for Victoria's. Faithful to the end, Vic glowered at him, as if daring him to hit on her. Which he'll probably do, regardless.

I suppose Brett is my boyfriend. In the loosest sense of the word. He's quite good-looking and definitely not stupid. Driven, determined, cunning; Brett in a nutshell.

He isn't an athlete, though, which Jordan has declared a fault in his seemed perfection. Nope. He's just another rich kid whose parents prefer he stay at Camion Boys Academy than at home.

At least we have something in common. Well, my parents don't want me at Berkley All-girls Boarding School. But they don't have much say in the matter because they died when I was eleven. My aunt prefers I stay here. I don't really blame her though.

After my parents' untimely death I was a little lost. Ah, hell, let's be honest… I got into fights, I snuck out of the house, I got involved with much older guys (I was only eleven, remember) I drank, I smoked, I cursed like a sailor around everyone and anyone, my grades slipped I dropped tennis and dance, I refused to eat around anybody who cared about me. I never went the whole nine yards and tried drugs, but I bet if I would have stayed in California I would have eventually shot _something_ up my arm. I also never cut myself if that's what you're assuming. I am way to chicken to do anything like that. Also I saw no point in ruining my wrists for the situation. My parents were gone and they weren't coming back. Getting my aunt to lock my in an insane asylum wasn't going to change that.

My aunt eventually gave up and sent me as far away from her as possible. To _Maryland_. Don't have a clue what was going through her mind when _that_ stunner of an idea raced through her head, but now I'm here. Sitting on a bench, looking at my 'boyfriend' deciding if I like him or not.

Ah, well, he's better than most of the guys I meet and he's got a great car. I like cars. Especially BMW convertibles.

"Hey, Brett," I said in a low, slow voice with a coy smile curling my lips. Have I ever mentioned I'm quite the little liar? I can put many actresses out of business for sure.

"You wanna go somewhere tonight?" he asked, resting his arm on the back of the passenger seat.

I stood up and _really_ smiled. Going places at night during the week was not allowed at our boarding schools.

I should know. I've been caught a couple times. I do have to say this though for my pride's sake. I'm eighteen years old—well, I will be in a week anyway—and I've been going to this school since I was twelve. I've snuck out more than a 'couple' of times in those six full years.

You read right.

_Full_. This is an all-year-round boarding school. Yep, you guessed it, this is where people send the kids they _really _don't want to see. But the school day does end at 1:00 p.m. and it's not like I'm missing anybody back in California.

My mom and dad and I were pretty close. I still hadn't gotten to the stage where I wanted nothing to do with them. I was still very dependent, which I assume is normal for most kids. Our family isolated each other really. We didn't need anybody else so we didn't really want anybody else. Dad used to call us the three musketeers and I demanded to watch that movie almost every weekend.

This isolation movement was a really bad move on my parents' half. When the only two people I had ever _really_ known were ripped away from me by a drunk driver, it left me utterly and completely alone. Oh, but I forgot! They left me a fortune! Yippy. My parent's were dead but now I could buy whatever I want.

If they would have let me, I would have marched into the bank and set fire to all the lovely hundred dollar bills my family had ever possessed.

But they didn't. And guess what? My mom and dad, Katie and Michael, are still dead.

I am living proof that to desert an eleven year old is a very bad idea. I like to think that a deserted eleven year old can go either of two ways. Internal or external, as I like to call them.

I tried external. You know, the wild child. The Hellcat, Spitfire.

That wasn't really accomplishing anything.

So I decided to enjoy life as much as I possibly could now that I was shipped off to Maryland. So now I try my best to be Aurora Elizabeth Stanton. Heiress to the Stanton wine fortune and future face of the company.


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently, Brett's friend Will has an uncle in town. A rich uncle, who just opened a new club that we were invited to, on the condition we don't drive drunk. Oh, boy.

Victoria begged me to actually consider going. I don't really like the whole club scene. I'm more of a moonlight-drink-by-the-lake girl. We have this cool lake in Mellwood, Maryland and it is in a park with all sorts of big trees from oaks to willows to pines. It's no beach, but it's definitely nice.

So here I am in my 2002 Lotus Elise, following Brett's convertible to the club with Victoria in the only other seat my little sports car has. I'm designated driver. I shouldn't have to be, considering this night is probably going to be hell for me. Brett's really starting to grate on my nerves. It's been like two months, but he still thinks we should be having sex like bunnies. Unfortunately, the last time Vic was a designated driver she just got wasted anyway. Of course, my other friends and I didn't know this, so we were drinking hopelessly as well and when it was time to go home there wasn't a sober one of us. Victoria had to pay for the cabs (six girls don't fit in one) home and the cab (only Vic and I) back so we could pick up her car the next morning.

We pulled up to a modern looking place with chrome and black sheet metal where music was pulsing and thumping.

I looked over at a grinning, enchanted Victoria. Her eyes were glittering with the site before us. "Don't do anything too stupid," I said, rolling my eyes as I got out of the car.

I heard her laugh over the music. "Not a problem, A.O."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed under my breath. Victoria's mind is full of stupid things one should not do or say in public. It was her form of rebellion she used on her parents. That's what got the Alabama sweetheart to get sent up to Maryland and to Berkley. Apparently she didn't fit in at the tea parties her mom hosted.

You can totally see why. She has pink hair for starters. Her favorite color's black and she has multiple piercings: her tongue, eyebrow, nose and three-a-piece on her ears.

You would never match us up as friends. I like color. Coral and all blues look great on me. I prefer designer jeans with some form of stiletto. My shoes are my pride and joy right after my car and are normally outrageous colors like gold, hot pink, turquoise, or green.

My hair is thick and dirty blonde that leans a little closer to strawberry than brown but I'm no red head. Not at all. My hair also comes down to my butt, which I realize is very 19th century, but it has layers all over the place, and it suits me just fine. I guess I'm pretty tall. Vic and I have _that_ in common, I guess.

Brett was waiting at the door for us, standing with someone else. It was pretty dark so I had reached them by the time I recognized Tyler. He smiled broadly at both of us but addressed Victoria.

She was much more likely to sleep with him than I was. And believe me, Vic's a looker. She's a bit less curvy than me but she makes up for her lack of assets by pure charm.

"Hey, beautiful," he drawled with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. _Vic's heard that a million times, Ty, try being a bit more original,_ I thought. Victoria, on the other hand, looked flattered… and contemplative. I knew that look. She was sizing him up. Guessing how good he'd be in the sac, as she words it.

"Not looking to bad yourself, gorgeous," she laughed. I suppose Tyler was cute. Well, he was, actually. Just not my type. Nobody's really my type.

Tyler's teeth gleamed in the dark. "I'm supposed to show you guys up to the room."

"Room?" I said.

His eyes flickered to me and he nodded. "VIP, until we want to leave."

"Wow," said Victoria, looking excited.

"Come on," Tyler waved and started into the throbbing noise of the club. The bouncers looked at us but said nothing.

We were led by Tyler past the jumping swaying people to a staircase and climbed up to a thick door. We walked into a large room with pendant lights and candles around low red couches positioned in a rectangle around a low dark table. One wall was glass, overlooking the dance floor. The music was cut off when the thick door clicked closed.

_Oh, crap,_ was my first thought.

Victoria Johnston and I were the only females in the room. The rest were guys ranging in age from Camion's senior year, all the way to men their forties. There were probably 15 of them and I only knew four others with the exception of the people I entered with.

I'm generally not great with people I don't know. I can not be a smalltalk-er to simpering girls. Guys are even worse. Thank God Vic is good at these things. And it was an added plus when the four Camion Senior guys I did know immediately acknowledged my presence by jumping up from their seats and yelling, "Rose!"

No one calls me by name, I swear. I like my name. Pity.

I smiled indulgently at them as we walked over.

"Will, Miles," I said. "Brian, Neeko." All were good friends of Brett, and two were ex-s of mine, but that's another story. "What are you boys up to?"

They just smiled or winked.

Will said, "Rosie, meet my uncle, Alex."

A guy I'm assuming to be around, 27, 28, looked up at me with a small, disarming smile. Damn. Not bad for an older guy.

He stood up when I was standing right before him. Vic and Brett at my sides. He held out his hand and I shook it.

"This is Brett and Victoria," Will continued.

He looked at them but kept holding my hand. He had pretty nice hands, too. Big and sleek.

"Nice to meet you, Rose," he said.

"Aurora," I said with a smile.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"My name," I said. "It's Aurora."

"Beautiful," he looked me straight in the eye. _28's not _that_ old,_ I reasoned. "But my nephew called you Rose…" His tone was a question. I dropped his hand and stepped back a little.

"Oh, God," Victoria groaned. I sighed. Why I corrected him was beyond me.

Brett, Will, and the boys laughed. _Great…_

Neeko slipped an arm around my waist. "She looks soft and gorgeous," he laughed. "But you can't touch her without getting hurt by the thorns."

The room of guys chuckled and I felt my stomach clench. I glared at Brett but he didn't even hide his smile.

That was there little private joke about me. They thought themselves geniuses coming up with the name. I thought they were mentally retarded. Vic agreed wholeheartedly.

I removed his arm. "Ha ha," I said dryly. "You are so smart, Neeko, really, it blows me away."

Victoria tugged on my arm and we sat down on one of the vacant firm red sofas. Brett dropped down next to me and pushed a possessive arm over my shoulders. I raised and eyebrow at him but he pointedly ignored me.

"Heartbreaker, are you?" Alex asked casually as he sat back down.

"Always," I answered devilishly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"And that's the fuckin' truth," remarked Miles before he downed a shot of… something and fell on the couch opposite us, only about four feet distance.

"Let it go, man," sighed Brett.

"Just wait till she leaves your ass," he said angrily. "Then you 'let it go'."

I was starting to suspect Miles had had a few of those shots before we came. I regarded him coolly. Did he actually think Brett cared about me enough to be hurt when the inevitable came? I was more like a toy than a human to him.

So it was quite the surprise when Brett's grip tightened on my shoulders and he said, "What makes you think she's gonna leave me?"

Was he serious? Well, of course I was going to leave him. I was eighteen! Life had barely begun.

Miles snorted. Neeko and Tyler—who was—unsurprisingly—sitting by Victoria—exchanged glances. Brian decided to sip his drink. Miles and he were my ex-s. I knew Brian was a little disappointed but he wasn't as crushed as Miles, who never saw it coming. He was one of the captains of the baseball team and stuff like that didn't happen to him. Too bad, really.

"She leaves everybody, dude," he sounded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's cuz her parents." I tensed, and so did Victoria. "Get her real drunk and she'll spill the whole story to ya. They died, ya know, and now she don't let nobody get close. Do ya, Rose?"

Victoria jumped to her feet, her hands balled up into fists. I reached out and laid a hand on her arm to stop her and stared into Miles' glazed eyes. I should have known earlier he was drunk. Normally he would have hugged me or made some sarcastic joke. He was probably drunk before Victoria and I snuck out of the school.

"So," I said calmly, noticing the stillness of the room, tensed with this awkward piece of news. "You think you got me figured out?" My voice wasn't hard, cold, angry or bitter. Just blank. This is what I consider 'internal'. This is choice number two for an abandoned eleven year old. I'm quite good at internal. I'm even better at being ice-like than a roaring flame.

Victoria, my protector, sat down slowly, giving Miles a death glare. She figured I could handle it on my own and a surge of warmth bloomed in me. The only person I'm faithful to would be her. I'd break her out of jail, beat the sass out of any ex-boyfriend that hurt her, and go to jail myself, even bury a body, no questions asked.

Miles looked me over and his eyes focused just a fraction more.

"You don't let people get close, Rose," he said, looking sad.

I laughed. A completely harsh and humorless sound, but not loud, the other men were starting to resume there conversations.

"Oh, I think we got pretty close, Miles," I grinned at him and looked pointedly up and down his body.

He laughed too, but it was a much happier laugh than mine. "We did, huh, Rosie?" The goofy grin I liked on him was back. "Some good times," his eyes gazed longingly at my chest.

This conversation was a bit quieter than it had started out and now only about eight or so people could hear us. The room had a small and sleek sterio that was playing jazz. _Classy_, I thought.

One of those eight people was Brett and he didn't like the change in topic. Though, I do have to say that it was pretty smooth on my part to steer Miles off like that.

Brett cleared his throat and looked at Miles meaningfully. Victoria started up coy conversation with Tyler and I heard him mumble something about dancing.

Victoria looked nervously at me. I saw the worry in her eyes and had to restrain laughter, though I did smile.

"I can handle myself with these guys," I informed her.

She looked skeptical.

"Ty, take her downstairs and get her drunk," I ordered.

Now Vic smiled and Tyler positively beamed.

"You're the best, Ao," Victoria said. "I've told you that a million times but I really mean it, girl."

"Of course you do," I pretended to look conceited. "Now go."

Tyler practically dragged a very willing Victoria out the door and the music was cut off again as it swung closed behind them.

"Make sure you are the one taking her home tonight," Brian finally spoke to me. "I am not spending one more night in Miles' and Neeko's room."

Tyler and Brian were room-mates.

"How many nights have you spent in their room?" I asked curiously.

"So far?" he asked. "Four. Lily was the 21st of February."

My jaw dropped open. "Lily? Lily Caters?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Next was that Jessica girl. Then it was Jordan and after that Jenny." He took another sip of his drink while I stared at him. Completely flabbergasted.

"Oh, come on," drawled Will. "They didn't tell you? We sure heard enough about them."

"They beat me to it!" I gasped. It had never been a goal of mine to go out and have sex, but I do admit I always thought I would be second. Vic lost her virginity when she was thirteen, so there is no way I would have been first. But jeez!

"So you two haven't done the nasty?" Neeko asked wickedly. I threw a decorative pillow at his head. I didn't miss.

"No!" I breathed. "You idiot!"

"She's not ready," Brett mocked my excuse I'd been using for the past week and a half.

"Oh, I'm ready, baby," I purred and nipped at his neck. I placed my hand on his chest and shifted a bit of weight onto his lap. I glided my other hand up his thigh. His breath caught and I grinned in satisfaction. Then I jumped up to my feet. "I think I'll go find a volunteer now."

And I headed for the door with chuckles following me. Apparently most of the room had been observing the scene. I blushed a little but looked over my shoulder to look at one angry Brett, then burst into the throb and pulse of the music beyond.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, **_Nin_**, hun, next time you want to give advice in a review, don't start it off with "Ew." And also, you should leave your email address so I can defend myself. I took your advice though and I think I'm gonna shorten her hair to her bust line. I was thinking about it before… but you're right. And her hair isn't stick straight anymore. It's definitely wavy and sleek, with side-part bangs. White blonde hair makes peoples skin look red so I'm changing that feature, it's dark blonde with red undertones, but it isn't even remotely orange. She ain't gonna be pale in this one either. Her skin is going to be golden with peachy undertones. Her eyes are heavily lidded and an odd dark blue with an almost black ring around the irises. And the freckles are light and run along the bridge of her nose. She's got high cheekbones and a small straight nose, her lips are full and wide and turned down a little. She has light, expressive, arched eyebrows, neatly waxed. She isn't skinny either. She probably wouldn't mind carving a pound off her butt, but she would never have to. She's curvy where she's supposed to be and does palates to keep her _almost_ four pack tight.

She is, all in all, quite stunning.

But what do you want me to have her say. "Dear God! I'm fine! Move over Heidi Klum!"

Come on, nobody thinks like that.

Review and tell me if that is outlined enough. I'll add it into the prologue too, eventually.

Thanks. No hard feelings.

Syd

Victoria was on the dance floor with Tyler.

Vic wasn't a bad dancer. Nobody could ever claim that. But I happen to know from several appreciative dance partners I've had over the years that I'm "Smokin'". I take pride in that compliment, even though it's normally given to me by guys who don't even know my name.

And when I'm dressed like I am tonight—skin-tight soft red-leather lowriders, a halter top made out of tiny gold links that softly _clink_ when I walk that ends about an inch above my pierced navel, with no back unless you count the little string holding it on—she liked to call me "sex personified". Which is a bit odd, considering I've never done the deed. I just like to make guys pant. Which they practically do when I smile at them. It's very satisfying, in a way.

To say this isn't the kind of outfit I wear normally would be one big understatement. The thing was, I really didn't want to go to this club _Resic_. Victoria had laid out clothes she thought I should wear—being the type of girl to think that I would look to her for approval—and I was ticked at her. I decided to go with the outfit I hadn't worn in over 8 months.

That would tick her off.

Victoria's the type that likes attention. She normally gets it, too. She has a very commanding presence. I recognized it the first day I met her. I like to think of myself as the opposite, subtle and smooth instead of loud and blunt. Not tonight. Me walking about in this skimpy attire definitely caught glances as I made my way over to the familiar couple. I stopped a couple feet away from them in the gyrating throb of bodies.

I quickly piled my hair on top of my head and started dancing. It's really annoying to be up against a guy with his sweat rubbing into your hair, I've found out. It's always better to keep it up or slung over your shoulder. But I happen to know that I look good with one arm bent and holding up my hair as I moved my hips.

I've been caught so many times, I'm not even embarrassed to say I dance in front of my mirror when the stereo is blasting out a new hit song.

I'd taken ballet for six years. It's wasn't as if I hadn't been in a studio with walls covered in mirrors before. Mirrors and dancing go side and side for me.

"Show off," Victoria laughed/yelled at me.

Tyler opened his mouth, but didn't get to express his appreciation over my now coatless self before another voice interrupted.

"Would you like to dance, Aurora?" he seemed amused.

I turned to see Will's uncle, Alex. He fit right in with the rest of the crowd. Black T-shirt and jeans. In the dark of the room he looked even more handsome.

I twined my arms around his neck and turned my body onto his, grinding my hips lightly on his front until I was low enough that my palms had eased down to his collar bone. I rolled my hips into his as I straightened.

"Love to," I purred in his ear.

His hands came to rest on my hips as I quickly twirled my hair up in a messy bun and secured it with a black hair band.

We danced well together and time seemed to fly by and slowly an ache started in my thighs. Dancing while bending your knees and occasionally dipping down really strains the muscles after a while.

"You're a beautiful woman, Rose," he breathed into my ear, pulling me flush against him. "And thorns don't bother me."

Pushing away from him I laughed a little.

"Goodnight, Alex," I smiled, and turned and walked away quickly to find Victoria.

She and Tyler tend to wander off when left by themselves.

I found her near the side of the dancing mob, lips locked with Tyler.

I probably should have been surprised. I wasn't. It wasn't as if they hadn't been a couple before. They were an off and on couple with a lot of resentment and anger during the 'off's.

I tapped on Tyler's shoulder and he pulled away from my friend to give me and annoyed look.

"Where's Brett?" I asked him before he could say something rude.

"Pissed at you," he answered shortly.

Did I mention Tyler's not that smart? I said, "Thanks. Where is he?"

He shrugged. Victoria was more helpful. "He was dancing with some blonde over there," she gestured with a wave of her hand.

"Alright." They resumed their previous activities, to my mild disgust, and I walked in the said direction.

Sure enough, Brett had a fake platinum blonde all over him. I guess I couldn't blame the girl. Brett is incredibly too good-looking to ignore and I really hadn't expected to find him skulking in a corner somewhere.

It was a little amusing to watch as the girl turned and pressed her back up against his chest and caught sight of me. Her eyes widened and she stopped moving quite so fast.

This is about the time when I should inform you I'm no dog. A bit of the opposite actually. I don't go out without some agent or photographer approaching at least once. And some of those guys are _persistent._ Vic has to tell them to get lost sometimes. And Victoria is not someone who says something like that politely.

So I could tell this girl, although very attractive herself, recognized immediately she was out of her class.

I stopped about two feet from the now still couple I watched as her mind raced through the two most commonly chosen options for this situation. Flee without a word or challenge me and see who Brett chose. She opted with flee.

She didn't get very far though because Brett grabbed her wrist and tugged her back.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"You danced with that guy," he stated calmly. There might have been some disapproval in his tone but I chose to ignore it. "I'm gonna dance with Crystelle."

The eyebrow rose higher. _Crystelle?_ Oh, you have to be kidding me.

"He owns the place, Brett. We're here underage and some of our friends are drinking. Did you want me to turn him down?"

I didn't say: "Well, he's not bad looking and you are getting on my nerves."

I needed an older guy. A more mature man. That may have been one reason I didn't turn Alex down. Growing up in a boarding school like Brett, Victoria, I and everyone I knew had, we are more mature than the average eighteen-year-olds. We had to fend for ourselves with the exception of some caring teachers. But Brett's parents hadn't died, and he didn't have the emotional upheaval and stress that I had had. That makes a kid mature even faster.

"The owner's here?" the girl asked. She had a high voice. I looked at her in disbelief.

_Crystelle_ was actually participating in the conversation. That bleach must have sunk through her scalp and tampered with her brain. A third party does not interrupt an arguing couple.

Well, I guess to her we didn't look upset. Brett and I have that in common. We come off as calm and serene when we're fighting with others.

I chose to ignore the idiot's question and looked back at Brett. "It was only dancing," I said. He scoffed. "I left him and came looking for you."

"After a half an hour," he stated, letting go of Crystelle and folding his arms over his chest. She recognized this as her dismissal and left.

"We can go longer," I smiled. He smiled back. Alex was in the past. Forgotten. The memory dismissed as easily as Crystelle. His little toy had returned after a bigger kid had played with it.

The reason I had been dating Brett for two months, a long time for me, was that he could put things like this behind us. We were fairly alike when it came to people. We had groups of close friends, but outsiders were just that. Outsiders. He was not one of my insiders and I don't think I was one of his.

He was mad about the Alex situation though, and I couldn't muster one ounce of jealousy for Crystelle. We differed in just a bit too many ways to be compatible for long. The relationship with Brett was coming to a close. Graduation was only a week off.

Brett grabbed me and we started moving and turning. We danced for an hour before he and I dragged Tyler and Victoria apart and drove back to our schools.

I snuck back into the room I shared with Jenny and changed into my Under Armor bright yellow sports bra and a pair of black shorts before crashing onto the bed.

Only eight days before the senior class of Berkley All-girls Boarding school went to Paris for our senior class trip.

Please review. It only takes 10 seconds. Just say "good job" or "Absolutely ghastly" and you're done!

Syd


	4. Chapter 4

I'm a morning person. Always have been, always will be.

My favorite part of the day is undeniably dawn. The sky becomes the most beautiful color at 5:20 a.m. and I set my alarm clock to observe the change.

At 5:20 a.m. the sky is just changing from black to deep navy. I stare out the little window as the navy bleeds into royal blue which eventually changes to an almost green/grey blue. Breathtaking.

I sat in the tiny window sill of my dorm with my knees drawn into my chest and my arms wrapped around my shins. My jaw cracked in a yawn and I rested my chin on my knee. As the sun cast its yellow light onto me, inching up my bare legs, I felt at peace.

I pretended I wasn't an orphan, nor was I going to have to return to an empty house I had once shared with my parents after graduation. I pretended I wouldn't have to leave my friends for the no-longer-homey beaches of California. I pretended Brett and I were actually blissfully happy and someone _loved_ me.

Was it a crime to wish for that? I sometimes thought so. I really am uncertain if I would be capable of love. Oh, sure, I loved Vic. And Jenny, Lily, Jordan, and Amelia but it wasn't soul-revealing love like it could be with a guy you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The kind of love my mom and dad had. Can I accomplish that after the rollercoaster that was and still is, my life. Unlikely, but it's possible.

My friends, who were much like sisters, were content to know and befriend the current Aurora. Did they have a clue about former Aurora? The laughing, skipping, joking, disgustingly thrilled-with-life little girl I had been before the car wreck? Or what had become of that girl after?

Nope. Not one clue.

They knew my parents died. They knew I was from Cali, and that I had lived with my aunt for awhile and that my parents had owned a vineyard and wine company. But anybody who picked up a paper in northern California after the accident could probably tell them that.

I looked over at the alarm clock. 6:30. Damn. I had been carried away with my musings and the sunrise.

I jumped down from the small windowsill and bent over and touched my toes, pleasant pain from a good stretch after a night of dancing raced through me. I straightened and grabbed a vinyl bag from the small Pottery Barn desk it had been carelessly thrown on and headed out the door.

"Hey, Ao," said Jessica Lason cheerfully.

Nobody _ever_ calls me by my name. It's tiring.

"Morning, Jess," I said and walked with her down the hall to the communal bathroom. We received many friendly gestures on our way and I stiffened, as usual, under their careful gaze.

Boys can beat you up but girls can make you cry, I've found out. And let me just say the girls in this school are absolutely ruthless. Little, rich icicles in pretty pink colors pretending to be female humans. But really, they're hyenas or vultures or something. They're wary when you're at the top, but when you fall, they rip you to shreds and devour the pieces for temporary satisfaction.

I've never actually cried before over what they've said, but I have gotten mad on occasion by the rumors that spread about me and my friends. It just isn't right for some people to say the things they do.

Like assuming that Jordan had an improper relationship with the basketball coach, Coach Steve, just because the two talked and joked with each other. I mean, what _is_ that?

Do the girls in my school find it amusing that Jordan and Coach Steve avoid each other like the plague ever since that rumor had everybody talking. Those people ruined a perfectly playful, older-brother relationship for no reason at all. It wasn't like anybody benefited from starting that tantalizing piece of gossip.

To say that the feeling among my school was sisterly love was obviously a lie, as you no doubt have realized.

Our school was like a competition every girl inside had unknowingly signed up for.

There was first place, "Goldens," as they call it, which is made up of about 15 senior girls. Victoria, Lily, Jenny, me, Jordan, Amelia, Jessica Lason and her friends made up this little group.

Next came the "silvers," which, I do admit, are the group I would prefer to belong to. They float cheerfully between all the little cliques without establishing any loyalties and don't often put themselves up for public inspection. They also seem to be much nicer than Jessica's group. Nobody but Victoria, Amelia, or I mess with Jess and her best friend, Courtney, and come away with our reputation intact. Well, according to most of our school my reputation is shot to hell anyway. I could honestly care less.

I left the bathroom smelling like jasmine—a clean, not overly sweet scent. I padded back to my room in a towel, my make-up light and flattering, legs smooth and shaved.

I brought the towel I had been using to rub the water out of my hair and smacked it down like a whip on Jenny's butt.

"Up, Jen," I huffed.

"Ao, knock it off," she growled into her pillow.

"It's seven o'clock," I stated, digging through my drawers.

Jeans and a small, blue lacy cami would do today. I pulled open my top drawer to reveal all different sorts of ribbons. It's a trademark of mine to tie a _very_ thin ribbon of shocking color into my hair when it's up.

So I pulled my dark blonde hair, still wet, into a bouncing, round, loose bun and tied a black ribbon around the hair tie and tied it into a tight bow. I pulled down my side-part bangs and straightened them with a big-barreled curling iron.

The lump known as Jenny hadn't moved.

I clicked over to her bed in tasteful Prada heels and yanked her pillow out from under her and started beating her over the head with it.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed angrily. Then she caught sight of her own alarm clock and she repeated the Lord's name and ran from the room, barreling past me. I walked calmly over to the door and held out the black vinyl bag. She returned and ripped it from my hand without so much as a glance at me.

For some reason unknown to me I provide the shampoo, conditioner, soap, shaving cream, razor, and toothpaste for both Jenny and I. Poor girl doesn't even go to the Starbucks down the road to get her own coffee.

So that's where I headed off to, grabbing my Louis Vitton back-pack and Chanel aviators on the way. Jenny is the reason I dress so tastefully, the girl has the touch and the eye. She—I kid you not—says that this is payment for the things I buy for her. Yet she borrows all of my clothes she can fit into. Which isn't all that much, what with me being tall and her being, well, not.

My walk was calm and peaceful for about 3 minutes when a car drove past me and stopped, reversing. _Oh, god,_ I thought with a sigh and a roll of my eyes, _I'm going to get kidnapped in _Maryland_ after 12 years of living in California._ One year spent doing some not-so-legal things, I might add.

But it turns out I was not to be kidnapped—which would be kind of flattering in a perverse way—as I had irrationally assumed. Nope, I was destined to meet Alex, Will's uncle, after I had grinded my hips into his for a half an hour the previous night. Awkward, but I tried not show it.

He drove his car next to me as I continued to walk down the sidewalk.

"Aurora," he said with a smile. "Don't you have school today?" He had to lean over the passenger seat to see me out the window.

"And you never skipped?" I asked, returning the teasing smile.

He threw back his head and laughed. He kept pacing me with his car, a Jaguar, not my style, but good nonetheless.

"Do you have any plans for today? Other than missing school of course?"

I indicated the back-pack hanging from one of my shoulders. "I'm just getting coffee, not actually skipping."

He smiled a little and nodded, looking at the road. He was lucky this wasn't a busy street. The Starbucks I was going to was around the corner of the next block up.

Suddenly, he surged forward and I was left alone. He didn't even say "see ya," or anything. _Sorry if I'm not skipping_, I thought, _there's only a week left of school and I would prefer to go on the class trip, if it's not too much trouble._

But then he pulled into a parking space on the side of the road and got out of the car and started walking back towards me. My eyes widened behind my Chanel's but I kept walking.

"I'll go with you," he suggested with a shrug and put his hands in his jeans pockets

I pulled the back-pack up my shoulder a bit more and said, "Sure."

We walked on in silence and passed his car. "Did you think I wouldn't get in the car with you?" I looked ahead and tried to restrain a smile. I wasn't very successful though, because he chuckled a bit and I joined in softly.

I saw from the sheepish look on his face that that was indeed what he thought. Marylanders. Ha!

"You're not speaking with an innocent school girl, Mr. …," I trailed off suggestively.

"Denalkie," he supplied. Not Will's last name. He ran his fingers through his hair. Long and curly, like Will's. "But keep calling me Alex."

"Alright," I said, pulling up my aviators to rest on top of my head. It was habit to bring them along, but it wasn't really a bright morning. I would know. I was up since 5:20 watching the sun's progression.

"What's your last name?" he was studying me pretty intensely. It was unnerving.

"Stanton," I said, casting my eyes about for more people.

He pulled out a sleek cell phone. He dialed some numbers and pressed it to his ear.

"Hello, this is Mr. Alex Denalkie calling on behalf of Aurora Stanton." I gaped at him and he smiled at me. "Yes, she came to me with questions about our scholarship and I'd like to take her to lunch to discuss it."  
"No, no, no," I whispered to him waving my hands in a "cease fire" manner. I happen to know the secretary hates me and knows of my future as head owner of a wine company. She thinks I won't go to college for this reason. Like I could actually own a business I know nothing about without college. The secretary's insane, in my opinion.

Alex said a few more "yes,"s and some "okay,"s.

"You're a free woman, Aurora," he said to me as he snapped his phone shut.

I looked at him incredulously. "You can't do that," I informed him. We were standing still in the center of the sidewalk. Coffee forgotten.

"Yes," he said with a smug smile. "I can."

I gave an enraged huff and turned on my heel. I was going to school today. He caught up with me easily.

"What did I do?" he seemed surprised.

"Who gave you the right to decide I didn't want to go to school today?" I demanded, rounding on him.

Yep, definitely surprised. "I thought you could use a break," he shrugged, regaining his cool.

"I have a boyfriend," this might have sounded random to a passer-by, but the way he was studying me demanded I remind him of Brett.

He actually smiled. A _mean_ smile, but a smile. "You don't seem attached to him…" he trailed off.

"I love him with all my heart," I said dramatically and started walking again.

"Do you?" he was being amused by all of this.

"I don't see why I should tell you," I turned around to glare at him and he nearly ran into me.

"It's just one day, Rose," he said soothingly. Too bad that voice doesn't work on me. I've been to too many shrinks for the calming voice effect to get any sort of intended reaction out of me.

I considered though. He was good-looking. With a nice car. Older.

I'm not going to pretend I had feelings for the guy, but a part of me _wanted_ to develop feelings. Not just for this guy, for any guy really.

So what can I say? I went. And we had a great time driving to, and then walking, down town, going into boutiques and getting coffee and tea at regular intervals. He wasn't a bad guy overall. A little too dominating for my tastes, but he wasn't an overly jealous man. When this one beat-up looking car with two guys around my age drove by and catcalled he laughed as I smiled at them. And we talked a lot.

So, it turns out that Alex is actually twenty-six and he owns three clubs in the urban areas that are quite successful, and he thought college was the best thing that ever happened to him, other than the many nights worshiping the Porcelain King. He hasn't gone to jail, and has no tattoos or piercings anywhere on his person and he adores baseball and basketball.

Pretty average.

I told him about myself. You know: my parents died when I was eleven and I was sent to Berkley after a year with my Aunt Colleen, my mom's youngest sister, and that I am going to be the future owner of Stanton Wine Production.

He was sympathetic about my parents and then curious about the company.

He drove me back to campus at 1:15 p.m. and pulled up in front of my friends' normal bench I directed him to.

Unfortunately, for both of us, Tyler and Victoria were now back together. Which meant our two groups were hanging out together. Will, Tyler, Jenny, Lily, Victoria, Miles, Neeko, Amelia, Jordan, Brian and Brett were sitting or standing or laying in the shade of the pine.

Many looked confused, two looked angry.

"Oh, shit," I said.

Alex pulled over and I got out of the car. I just wanted him to drive away. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"You should probably go," I suggested, looking at him through the open window. He smiled and nodded.

"See you around, Aurora," he said and I stepped away and he left the parking lot.

I didn't look at anyone in particular. "Hey, guys," and I started striding off towards the school doors.

"Oh, no you don't," said Victoria, loud enough to cause the whole yard to turn in our direction. I stopped myself from wincing. There's only one person who gets to talk to me like that and she takes full advantage of it. "You skipped school without so much as a word to anybody?" she demanded. She had half the school that was present outside in rapture.

I turned on my heel, hard to do in Prada. "I didn't get the chance to tell you," I hissed out at her so only she could hear. "He picked me up on my way to coffee. Get a grip."

"'Get a grip'?" she screamed, not caring if the world knew she was angry. "I've been worried sick and you show up with _him?_" she pointed back to where Alex's car had been.

"He's a nice guy Vic. And he called the school to excuse me. We walked downtown, ate and he took me back." I hissed again, glaring at her for all I was worth "We didn't so much as hold hands the entire day."

"You could have called," she was calming down and no longer screaming. That didn't mean the yard had lost interest in our fight though. If you could call it a fight. Vic and I did this sort of yelling daily. Well, she yelled.

"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically. "During which class would you have taken the phone call?" She had Mr. Tomoskee, Government; and Mr. Hansen, Physics today. Neither were cool with cell phones in the classroom. Our days were very short as this was a year long school. Classes ended at 1:00, which was lunch hour, so we only had two long periods daily.

She just glared at me and sighed, seeming to let it drop. I knew she wouldn't though. Straight, business-like questions would come from her as soon as we were alone.

She was calm. Brett was not. Neither was Will for that matter. I guess seeing your uncle with a girl your own age is pretty strange. Especially when said girl is your friend's girlfriend.

"What _was_ that?" Brett looked very upset. He was pointing at the spot where Alex's car had formerly been. He had not woken up expecting this to happen today.

But it was as good a day as any. I felt my hopes die just a little as I looked into Brett's normally passive face. There was no sign of the so aloof playboy anymore.

As his eyes connected with mine his arm dropped and his eyes narrowed.

"The end," I whispered to myself, looking to the ground. Vic heard it and inhaled sharply. I knew she actually had high hopes for Brett. Heck, I sure had. But there was no denying that the feelings weren't there. Not even a trace.

I walked over to him slowly, keeping my eyes somewhere near his shoulder. He was only about 5'11".

"Can we talk," I asked him.

His breathing was coming quicker and my heart tightened. His weren't the only dreams being crushed. He knew, there was no need for talk.

He bit the side of his cheek and looked over my head before setting his jaw and swallowing.

"Thorns, huh?" he asked me. Or maybe he asked himself.

That sent me over. A single tear rolled down my cheek. But not for him, so much as myself.

_Why can't I love him! _my heart screamed. Brett was perfect. Beautiful, smart, rich, and completely impassive. He was hardened, like me. He didn't let others get to him.

I _wanted_ to love him. I wanted to feel it.

He stared at my tear for a long time, and it eventually fell of my jaw. He smiled a sad smile and touched his forehead to mine, cupping my neck with both of his hands.

"Do roses hurt themselves?" he sighed. A lump was in my throat so I only nodded against him. It was a rhetorical question, but it was true.


	5. Chapter 5

The week leading up to this morning was miserable and exciting. Miserable, because it was my last week of school and the end of my high school days with just my friends and I. Exciting because it was the end.

Brett and I aren't speaking. We avoid each other, which isn't all that hard to do, going to completely different schools and everything. His laughter around me is a little too forced and I can't help but look at him and just regret.

Regret what I am. What I've become.

A rose. Really and truly an unfeeling pretty thing, with the added bonus of sharp points.

So that is why I made my decision. Everything was ready for France. And everyone.

"We're going to be late, _mes filles_," called Madame Rockshire in her cheerful voice.

"Get moving!" squawked Madame Charmon.

Aw. Madame Charmon. You hate her or you love her. I personally like the woman.

The senior class of Berkley scrambled to the front lounge and we emptied into cabs and vans.

Eighty-five girls in all were fighting their way out the door. I reached forward and grabbed the back of Lily's shirt and brought her back and away from the crowd.

"Patience," chided Victoria with a devilish smile.

Lily looked up to me. She was only 5'3". I gave her a reassuring smile.

The girl trusts me implicitly, for reasons not known to me. I've never shown her anything to trust. She's seen me drop guys like hats and dismiss acquaintances without so much as a glance. I live my life with rare outwards signs of affection, yet she clings to my presence like a vine.

"No reason to rush like those blondes," Amelia said. Jordan and I used to take offense to this, but don't anymore. Amelia's definition of blonde is something dark tan and platinum with a soprano voice and much too much eyeliner.

We walked outside after the crowd had died down and saw Bernie leaning against the passenger door of a yellow cab.

"Not two, Bernie?" asked Jordan, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, there's room in the van's" he said with a shrug.

"Aurora!" I recognized the voice.

"Alex," I said as I turned in the direction of the voice. He was parked in a nearby visitor's parking space and was standing in-between his open car door and the actual car.

He stepped away and shut his door. Then he started walking towards me. "I'll give you a lift to the airport," he said as he reached me and picked up two of my four suitcases. And those things were heavy; a lot of keepsakes were in there. Not just clothes.

He nodded his head over to his car with a smile and started striding towards it. I turned back to grab the two smaller suitcases and shrugged one shoulder and raised an eyebrow with a smile at my friends and walked after him.

Alex and I had been eating out every night this week, since that first morning. He was definitely marriage material, to me, and he seemed to be very eager to be with me. One day, we talked about who and when we would like to marry. He described me in a nutshell. I laughed and teased, then mentioned I always had planned on marrying right out of high school. A bit of a lie. Well, a big lie. He was ridiculously enthusiastic after that and when he had a few drinks he had said:

"You're perfect." I gave him an incredulous look then. "No, I mean it. You're smart, funny," he leaned forward to stroke my face with the back of two fingers. "Beautiful. Young and wild and strong. I have to have you."

His definition of "have" was going to be different than mine, I was sure. Him "having" me was a piece of paper saying that we were bound to share our money and our remaining years with each other. But I was fully planning on living every day of my life as if there were never consequences or rules.

But _he_ didn't need to know that.

Besides, the guy was just average in personality. Not a crazy, worldly environmentalist, nor a Hell's Angel skinhead. And I do have to admit Alex was very attractive. I was not the only one getting checked out by the surrounding people dinning out that one night.

Long, dark, curly hair with sea green eyes and tanned skin stretched over hardened biceps make him a prime male species.

"You can," I threw back my head and downed the shot of Sex on the Beach. A fruity drink.

That cleared his eyes and made him straighten. He studied me long and hard for any trace of a lie. He wasn't going to see one. I wasn't lying. He could "have" me all he wanted, in my definition of the word, of course. Love had never been in the plans for me, I guess.

"Really?" he smiled and cocked an eyebrow. He was trying to appear teasing and succeeding little.

"Of course," I replied, barely letting a smile touch my lips.

His eyes widened and a large smile spread across his face. It was a good smile. Not a smirk or a grin. One I could live with, I decided.

And that's how, five days after that coffee morning, I received a large platinum and diamond ring which now lay on my third left finger.

Yes, I was engaged, and the world could tell by the size of that rock on my hand.

Victoria was the least enthusiastic about it. I could see her despair clear in her eyes. Amelia congratulated me on ringing an older guy and informed me they were much better in bed. Jordan told me to kiss my freedom goodbye and Jenny ogled at the diamond. Lily informed me that I should drag out the engagement and told me to hold out on sex, but made me call my aunt that night.

I am pretty sure Aunt Colleen dropped the phone because there was silence from her end and then a loud crash and my five year old cousin spoke to me for a little while.

"What's wrong Ah-wor-ah?" he repeated over and over again.

"Give the phone to your mom, Kane," had been my constant reply.

Then, "Harold!" a quite unearthly shriek that could only belong to my beloved aunt. She was yelling for her husband. "She's _engaged_!"

"Who is?" I heard his alarmed reply.

"Your niece!" Need I remind you that my Aunt is my mother's youngest sister and I am not related to Harold in any way. We hardly ever spoke in my troubled year as one of their household.

"Brittany?" he asked, sounding more alarmed. My distant cousin, his actual niece, is fourteen.

"No!" she shrieked again. "Aurora."

"Wor-wor?" my other cousin, who is three, asked. "Why are you engaged?"

"Give the phone to mommy, Tammy," I said through clenched teeth. Kids weren't always my thing and I really don't like being referred to as "Wor-wor."

"To whom?" my aunt came back on the line. "When? How long have you known him?"

My aunt hasn't seen me in six years. I think to her I'm still a twelve year old girl with rebellious tendencies.

"His name is Alex Denalkie," I started, but was cut off.

"The businessman?" she asked, disbelieving. "I saw his picture in some magazine, something about most eligible bachelor on the east coast…"

See? I told you he's a looker. Will's family's got some money behind them, too.

"That's him," I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"Oh," was her soft reply.

There was a long pause. Then, "When's the wedding?" in a tight voice that sounded distinctly relieved.

"After the class trip," I said. There had never been any reason to alert her to, what I called, "the plan". "To Paris," I said after a long pause. I didn't update her on any comings and goings in my life.

"Oh," she said again. "Where is it going to be?"

"The Lakeside Country Club," I said. "I'll send the invitations."

"You sound so…" she said. "We got your Christmas card… and your school picture. You look very… grown up." She sounded so uncomfortable.

"Thanks," I replied slowly. "I'll see you soon. It's going to be formal," I added. Big and formal. "Everyone on our side will be getting the invitations within the week. The class trip will last 20 days. I guess I will see you then."

"I suppose," she murmured. "Goodbye, Rory."

That was a surprise. She hadn't called me Rory since my parents died.

"Goodbye, Aunt," I said. No reason to rethink now. The plan was set in motion.

Alex took the two suitcases from me and shut the trunk. That jerked me from the past, back to the here and now.

I smiled at him and went around the car to the passenger side door. The drive to the airport was comfortable and calm. He held my left hand in his right and his thumb worked the platinum ring round and round my finger. I looked out my window and let him do as he liked. I felt his eyes on the side of my face more than once.

"Alex?" I asked. "Why do you want to marry me?" I had to know. This was not the first time I was questioning the plan. But it was after the trip to the bank and some large money transfers under different aliases. I understand banks and didn't waste my year as a hoodlum. And it wasn't like I was stealing any money. It _was _mine.

He laughed. "I don't know one person who wouldn't," he joked. He was semi-serious though. I, having been introduced to many of his friends, think they would propose if they hadn't heard the news or saw the ring.

I squeezed his hand kind of hard. "But why? After only a week?"

He chuckled again. "Why did you agree after only a week?" he turned the question around.

I studied him and shrugged. "I could do worse," I said, with a straight face.

He saw through it and winked at me. "That," he said, nodding in my direction. "That is why I have to marry you. Why I _will_ marry you."

I just smiled again, and looked out my window.

We reached the airport first and he parked.

He brought the hand he was holding up to his lips as I unclipped my seatbelt with my other hand.

"Mmm," he hummed as he kissed my wrist.

A grin spread across my face and he leaned in, lips pressing into mine. I took a deep breath of his expensive cologne and uttered a soft moan. He pressed harder, slipping his tongue into my mouth. The back of my head pressed into the window and he reached up and pulled my hair band, releasing my hair. He fisted a hand in it and pulled me to him.

My hands went to the bottom of his shirt and I slipped them under, resting both palms flat on his tight stomach. He smiled as we pulled back for air, foreheads resting against each other.

"You're too good at this," he breathed. "You shouldn't be allowed around men."

"You'll have to keep them away from me, then," I panted. "For their own good, of course," I added. This made him happy. The words and the kissing. I might as well make him happy before "the plan". He deserved that.

"Why would I do that?" he asked. "Their faces are priceless when I introduce you as my fiancée. I couldn't miss their reaction to 'wife'."

"What am I? Your show-piece?" I asked playfully and pressed my lips back onto his.

We continued like this until his phone went off, buzzing and beeping.

"Shit," he panted, pulling it out. He looked at the top of it to check the identity of the caller before narrowing his eyes. He flipped it open, clearly annoyed.

"Yes?" he asked. "No, we want the old Parks' building for a parking lot," he said. "Well, _why not_?" he snapped.

He looked at me as I pulled my shirt back down and took my hair tie from the floor, pulling my hair up again.

"Goodbye, Alex," I said and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. I pulled back and looked at him. I would miss him. Not as much as I was going to miss Victoria, Amelia, Jenny, Lily and Jordan, but I did like him.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

This is the set-up for the Paris meetings. I will reveal exactly what "the plan" is soon, but it's not the same as the last story. Yup, that's about it.

_TRISTAN IS COMING SOON, MAYBE EVEN NEXT CHAPTER!_


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